æfter
by hel lokidottir
Summary: Post-Owari, TMNT 2012. "What makes one grow? Is it the aftermath—or the afterglow?" (warnings for more or less subtle implications of suicidal thoughts, self-harm, anxiety, depression) leorai
1. Chapter 1

i. nightmares

—

She knows what they see whenever she passes by, and it's funny how easy she can read the slight shifting of their stances and the subtle roll of their eyes to avoid hers. It's in the way they talk, how they kept commenting about the weather and how it would be a nice day for a trip in the forest. She wouldn't reply, of course, but she'd grin, and somehow, their eyes would get dimmer at it.

She knows what they see—Raph sees the stray hair falling down her face messily, curling against her cheek as sweat rolls down from her forehead; Donnie sees the dark shadows under her eyes, the foundation just a shade too light for him to be fooled; Mikey sees the pretentiousness in her smile at a joke, his lip jutted out childishly as he notices the strained curve of her mouth.

They see an empty body, one with ebony hair and sharp eyes, and she's not sure whether she should applaud at their keenness or cry at how close their getting. Maybe she should do both someday, when the world falls apart again and her life is taken away by another madman.

It's the thoughts like these that fill the world with butterflies and rainbows and unicorns and all that crap.

She shudders, but it's not the imagery of a sugary pink land made of bunnies and glitter that made her feel ill. No. It's the burning eyes that bravely glare at the pasty skin of her face, the puffiness of her eyes and the tensed posture of her shoulders as she sat on the sofa, quietly watching the reruns of _Chris Bradford's 2 Ruff Krew_ with little interest.

If Raphael, Michelangelo and Donatello see the hollowness, then Leonardo sees the storm inside her that's on the verge of breaking loose.

She blinks, her fingers thrumming against the plush. There's a cold dread at the pit of her stomach, and it grows colder when he starts toward her.

"Hey," he says, and she tilts her head at him, willing herself to relax—or, at least, pretend that nothing's wrong. "Can I talk to you?"

"Are you sure you want to? 'Cause, a lot of people think I'm crazy, but I can tell you, I'm not. I swear, those tux wearing men downtown are actually robots controlled by some kind of pink brain-aliens— _brailiens?—_ who speaks in broken English. But, they don't know … I've really seen them! I know the vigilantes who defeated them, even," she tells him.

Leonardo raises an eye-ridge, and she waves a hand for him to come closer, and when he does, she whispers, "And, between you and me, I think I like the one wearing the blue mask. He's adorable and so cute and—"

She bursts out laughing when Leo takes one hasty step back, cheeks flushed red, eyes becoming a swirling heart-filled mess. "That's not … I just—uh, I'm not sure … you think he's adorable?— **Ugh.** Come on, Karai, I'm not messing around," he grumbles, one hand covering his flustered face.

"If you're not looking to be teased with, then you're in the wrong company, hero. I'm sure Donnie would—"

"Oh, for the love of—! Tell me what's wrong, Karai."

It's not even a plea, because he _knows_ she'll answer, and she can feel tears instantly well up in her eyes, because— _"God damn it, Leo!_ " she shouts, and each word hurts like flames burning her tongue. She's crying, she's aware, but she doesn't wipe it away. It's just Leo anyway—cartoon-obsessed, socially-awkward, freaking-hero-complex, stupidly adorable Leonar-dork.

It's just Leo, so why is she inching away from him?

"Karai …" It's a gentle call, and she's not sure what exactly happened next, but she remembers confessing about troubled nights and harrowing pasts and terrible nightmares, and she remembers warm arms around her sides, gently holding her like she's some kind of porcelain, and she remembers familiar gasps, sharp and surprised, outside the living room, followed by the deafening silence that had lulled her quickly into slumber and into—

 _Fire_ —it licks at her feet and her arms, and she raises her tantō just enough to block an assailant, sparks flying as steel hits steel. She's wounded and tired, but she knows that if she ever pauses to even catch her breath, then the monster would win—

She feels her bones crack, and she falls to the floor, paralyzed, and she sees Oroku Saki stand in front of her, contempt and hate raging in his eyes. _"You disappoint me, daughter,_ " he growls, _"Now, you will be punished for all your failures."_ He walks away, each step he takes erupting in web-like cracks, and the world shifts so abruptly in flashing bright colours. It morphs, and she's thrown upwards. She wants to vomit, the vertigo from being tossed around catching up to her in waves, but in the end, she goes with thrashing instead, wriggling against the binds that had shackled her limbs, the chains appearing out of nowhere and holding her against a billboard.

The city below her hummed with life, but the only sound she could hear is her own strangled voice, muttering over and over: _"it's all my fault; my fault my fault my fault my fault …"_ Because, it really is. If she hadn't tried spiting Saki, going after his treasuries and burning what fortune she could find; if she hadn't been weak and succumbed to that accursed brain-worm's bite; if she hadn't laughed at Leo's words the first—the second, the _third_ time; if she hadn't believed every lie oh dear beloved _Father_ has ever said … if she hadn't. Hadn't.

If she hadn't existed, then maybe, what happens next wouldn't really happen.

That the explosion and the _fire_ that had just occurred isn't real.

And that Father _—Hamato Yoshi—_ isn't falling and _please oh god_ _ **no**_ _, please, this isn't real this isn't real this isn't real!_

" _It's real,_ **daughter**. _Too bad you weren't there to listen to his cries and see him crumble. Too bad, too bad indeed."_

She wakes up to tear-stained pillows and throbbing temples and aching shoulders, her body convulsing uncontrollably. Whispers of the nightmare murmur out to her. She shuts them out, and forces herself to abandon the bed.

Rambunctious and cacophonous laughter resounded from the kitchen, and she wishes she could just shrug away the night terror to partake on that happiness. A sigh escapes her lips.

Short but rhythmic raps on the door announces the presence of Mikey, and she snaps her head at him when he enters. It isn't really weird for him to come into her room, but what _is_ odd is the teddy bear he is currently holding gently on one hand and a small slip of paper on the other.

"Mikey, what are those—?"

"IheardaboutyouhavingnightmaressoIthoughtthatmaybeIshouldmakeyouasleeppartnerbecauseahwellnevermindthecardhaseverydetailsomaybeIshouldstoptalkingrightnowandletyoureaditthere'swafflesinthekitchenandsomejuiceso— _bye!_ " he shoves the toy and letter into her arms, and scurries back out of her room, pausing only to give her a fond grin.

"Weird." But, Mikey has always been unique, and she loves it. Loves _him_. And, looking at the plush toy with black button eyes and brown fur and mismatched threads before reading through his sweet and short message (Her name is Kawai, isn't she cute? She's on the mission to fight of all evil mind-dwellers—and give you lots of cuddles! - M), she decides that she loves them, too.

And, when she goes to the kitchen for breakfast and finds Donnie offering her hot ginger tea instead of that unpleasant orange juice they'd kept cold, the taste of spice and sweetness so perfectly in harmony—"Sensei's blend; he'd like you to taste it," he explains—she learns that she loves it as well.

Then, when she's gazing tiredly at nothing in particular, Raph just drags her by the hand to show her the latest video games he had asked April to buy for him. He challenges her on a PvP battle, and whenever she wins, he just sticks out his tongue at her and starts the game again. It isn't quiet and it doesn't make her retreat to the confines of her mind, and she loves the noise and the good-natured banters and the expressions of disbelief on his face at her repeated victories.

She doesn't thank them—she doesn't _know_ how to express her gratitude in words—but she smiles. It's truthful and honest.

They're her family now, and she loves them; green faces and little strange ways and all.

But, as the day has gone and the night has begun, she's trembling all over again, the peace and love she felt vanishing at the sight of the clock. **20:12.** Her one hand reaches towards the wall for assistance. She doesn't want to sleep, but she's tired. It sucks, having to choose between 'to sleep or not to sleep'.

She bites the inside of her cheek, trying to force down the sigh that's ready to leave her. "Leo, I know you're there." A twirl and a half-hearted smile later, she sees his body come out of the shadows, an unsure look on his face that makes him look constipated. She smirks. The amusement leaves her quickly, and she asks if he needs anything.

He tells her that she forgot something on the way to her room, and when she blinks in confusion, he takes her in his arms and plants a kiss on top of her head. "Goodnight, Karai." And then, he's gone, the awkward and blushing mess that he is.

She pats her head. "You _dork_." Smooth dummy. She shakes her head and continues on, but as she wraps herself with blankets and nuzzles Kawai close, she realizes that, yes, the nightmares wouldn't really stop and the guilt wouldn't go away, but, someday, it will.

Isn't there a quote about sunrise and hope and new beginnings?

Karai sleeps.

—

a/n: the two finale episodes of the fourth season broke my heart and left me drowning in feels. but finally! leorai made some major progress and im, once again, left drowning in feels. welp. the fangirl inside me plus the current tendencies i have are in need of an outlet so there. have this very and/she/but/because/then-redundant, grammatically-wrong, angst-ridden, fluff-riddled and pretty much unsure-romantic-genre story.

feedback is very much appreciated


	2. Chapter 2

ii. cast away

—

 _One month_ , the doctor had told her. _One month and you can finally remove your cast, Miss Hamato._ She had nodded, not really paying attention, the growing frustration of having to wait another thirty days to remove the accursed thing from her arm having distinguished her excitement prior to being finally released from the hospital.

It was heavy and so white— _why of all colours is it white?_ —and it was just so **annoying**. Sure, it was helping fix her injury, but did it really have to be so restricting? Couldn't it have been at least the tinniest bit of functional?

Of course it couldn't! It sucked.

She had chewed on her lip until it felt all wrong and turned swollen, purple. If only her powers had worked well with bones as it had with skin, she could have been somersaulting and jumping over rooftops and buildings with the others, instead of being stuck in a car driven by Mister O'Neil.

 _Kirby_ , she remembered. He had told her to call him Kirby, and that she was welcome to seek residence in his and his daughter's apartment whenever she wanted. She had thanked his hospitality, but told him that she had already discussed with Leo and agreed to stay in the sewers for the time being. _"I will visit though,"_ she had added, and April's face was torn between excitement and panic then, much to her amusement.

One month, the doctor had told her, and she had prayed profusely for the day to come sooner—only for her to end up begging that it wouldn't.

At all.

Like, _ever._

It must have been at least seventeen days after her release from the hospital that the suggestion was made, over a horror movie about vampires and ghouls and Donatello's shrieks of fright and Leo's failing reassurance that, _no, Donnie, you are not going to be a turtle-vampire and no, Donnie, vampires aren't real_. Mikey's eyes had been glued on the screen, devouring pizza by pizza, face lighting up at every action-filled scene, Ice-cream Kitty watching in a daze by his side. And, Raph had volunteered to fetch the popcorn from the microwave, leaving Chompy in her care. It had surprised her that he trusted her that much, but she just smirked at his embarrassed face.

" _Shuddup, princess,"_ he had said.

" _Don't wanna,"_ she had answered.

" _Eurgh."_

She hadn't said anything after that, though, as she had turned all her attention to the small beast happily chewing at her cast. It had been an adorable sight, and she had petted him. His scales were smooth as her palm had caressed his head, and his belly felt warm—like a previously flamed coal, cooled enough to be touched—as she rubbed a hand across it.

He had squirmed, howling, and Karai had to bite back a laugh of her own. She eased her hand off him, and he had returned to chewing the cast. Maybe she shouldn't have willingly let him nibble on it, his saliva slowly travelling down, but, welp, it doesn't really matter.

" _Karai!"_ But, of course, Leo had none of it, almost jumping to her side with a cloth of some sorts.

" _It's alright, Leo; it's not like I'm gonna die or something,"_ she had remarked, giving Chompy back to Raph when he came back.

" _I know, but I'm pretty sure you wouldn't want it to smell."_

Oh. _Right._

" _That's what I thought."_

It had taken him a short while—cleaning, drying, patting, drying, cleaning _so much cleaning like what the heck dude?_ —but, after inspecting his handiwork, he groaned. _"It's still not clean,"_ he had whined, and, though his pouty face and pouty voice was cute and all, Karai had just rolled her eyes.

"' _s'alright,"_ she waved off, _"and, it doesn't even look that bad."_ It was true. Despite the large discoloration and the slight funny smell, it had actually looked okay. The purplish drool-spot was pretty, and Karai had found that she liked that particular shade.

Leo wasn't sated, and he might have looked like he was about to argue when he was shoved to the side and Mikey had plopped his face in front of hers. He had that big grin that said he had something good planned. An orange pen was in between his fingers. _"We've never done this before, but, since Chompy had started it … Can we draw on your cast too?"_ was his question, voice full of eagerness and plea.

Karai had said yes. The horror movie had continued on, abandoned and muted, after that.

One month, the doctor had told her—but, it's an hour before her appointment now, and she'd rather not have it removed.

"I'm gonna break my other arm, Leo!" Not the best threat, but still. She runs, ducking the outstretched arm.

"Come on, Karai," is his exasperated voice. "Besides. I'm pretty sure you're lying."

True, but she's stubborn.

She jumps over the couch. Her feet lands on the broken couch softly, making it creak under her. The sound alarms her, so she quickly steps off. That's all it took for her pursuer to grab her by her healthy arm. Surprising, but gentle; Karai huffs at his light and nervous hands.

A kunoichi isn't weak, and she tells him so.

The smile that curls on his mouth leaves her cheeks burning. "I know, but I don't really care." She would have punched him in for his poorly thought answer, but she sharply elbows him instead. Punching would need a fist, and she's not ready to shake his hand from her arm just for that.

April arrives almost after, fetching Karai from the Lair. Mister O'Neil's— _ahem_ , Kirby's—car is parked near, with the man looking half-asleep at the driver's seat.

"Your Dad alright?"

April nods sheepishly. "Yeah, just … He helped me do some school project. For Literature. There's a reason I really don't like Homer."

"Ah." Karai understands. Not really, no.

Kirby jolts when the door is shut close, and looks at April before he starts driving. It is a half-hearted scold, and it looks kind of odd to Karai. Father never liked noise and hated being woken up to it; are other fathers alright with just letting their daughters off with a glare and an amused smile?

Wait. Her Father used to be Saki, and Saki was not the best father figure.

"You excited?" Kirby broke her musings, and she honestly shook her head in response. "Oh? I … actually thought you were. I mean, you are a … ninja, right?"

"Yeah," she replies as she scoots to the side, and draws the window open. New York is beautiful at this time of the year. The wind is chilly but the sunrays are warm enough for her to leave her jacket on her lap and her shoulders left bare.

"So, why a _ren't_ you excited?" April prods, looking at her from the rear-view mirror.

Karai hums, looks at her cast, and laughs. "It's the first time I had a cast." The plaster, once pristine white, now littered with colours and doodles. The memory of faces with silly grins and various paints and markers filled her thoughts. "And, the first time something sappy mattered."

She can still remember how Raph lazily marked a big red X on it, and how Leo had been complaining how it took too much space and how his rendition of Captain Ryan can't fit, and how Mikey just scribbles a picture of him and Ice Cream Kitty across those, and how Donnie had stuttered at the picture of him and April drawn by the girl herself. Black paw prints had appeared out of nowhere, and she knew it was Shini. Probably informed through a text from Mikey.

The thought of the two leaves her rolling her eyes at nothing and lips curving in a knowing smirk.

"What do you mean 'the first time'?" April asks, and Karai shrugs.

There hadn't been a lot of memories of her sustaining such an injury since Saki had taught her well enough to only land in the medical wing due either to a cut, a bruise or in unconsciousness. She says that out loud. "The Shredder never liked it when I beat my instructors easily, but he hated it even more if they accidentally hurt me too much."

Something dull and hard settles over her chest. Saki _loved_ her, and at the troubled silence following after, April and Kirby thought so too.

"And, it's also the first time someone had gushed over me like the turtles did," she quickly adds.

Yes, Saki loved her, but, that is not a reason to overlook the fact that he had destroyed what was supposed to be _hers._ The heaviness pulling her down dissipated, and she grimaces as she soon realizes that it had been guilt festering there.

She shakes everything off her mind. It's not the right time to think such things.

She coughs.

"So," Karai starts, her palms sweating at the continuing tense moment. "Any idea if I could just … y'know, _not_ have my cast taken off?"

The tenseness broke.

April chuckles, "None, and even if we do, you're not gonna do it anyway." Kirby hums in agreement, making Karai groan into her fist.

"I'm not predictable," she grumbles, in which April retorts,

"No, you're not. But, I could, y'know, 'telepathy'." There's a lilt in her voice that makes Karai doubt her. There's also the fact that April doesn't like prying other people's mind. Karai doubts her. "But, I do know for a fact that you could still keep your cast if you ask."

"I could?" It's a little too late to restrain her excitement when the words sprung out, but at least neither of her two companions laughed.

"Yeah!" Kirby pipes enthusiastically. "And, if they don't, it could always 'disappear'."

April makes a noise of shock at her father's suggestion. It sounded like a whimper of a puppy. Karai laughs. It's a tittering sound, and she finds herself bursting giggles louder.

This is … _nice._ A bit bearing and awkward, but warm and welcoming. It's pleasant.

And, when time passed and evening came, she's left staring at the shelf of her room, she can't help but think that maybe she should thank Shredder for all he has done.

She leaves to join her family, leaving her recent treasure of plaster and vibrant doodles and drool-spots sitting on the sill.

A pink kikyō blooms at the corner of the cast.

—

a/n: i tried so hard and got— cue Linkin Park. im so sorry if this turned out not really okay;;; but that aside, im so stoked for the friggin last season like ohmyluckystars _theres another season? why am I just recently informed like whut._ erm. anyway. yeah. also, im not really that knowledgeable how the casts work, since ive only gotten information from friends, internet and movies, but if i managed to make a mistake about it (or any part of the story, rather), please message me so i could fix them soon.

kikyō (or bellflower) is the flower the Hamato clan uses as their symbol.

feedback is very much appreciated


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